Gytha
by The Owl's Pen
Summary: Edmund!" said Lucy. "Surely you don't bring home a baby Gryphon without there being a story attached!"
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Alas, C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I!**

**Rated: T for intensity... eventually, that is!**

**Pevensie Ages: Edmund 17, Peter 20, Susan 19, Lucy 15.**

**All other Author's Notes at the end of the Prologue!**

*******

"What _is _that?"

Edmund pulled away from his brother's welcome home embrace and glanced down at the little creature snuggled in his arms. He laughed. "It's a baby Gryphon, Peter."

His elder brother looked rather foolish as he stretched his fingers out to touch the sleeping infant. "It _is?"_

Edmund knew that in the King's mind, the image of a swift, golden, winged feline was darting about, tracing ecstatic curlicues against the backdrop of a topaz sky while screeching battle cries from its curved beak. But in the younger brother's embrace, an awkward, pudgy little lump of dark brown velvet with stubby wings and a blunt beak lay on its back, paws flopping limply over a round belly. It mewled in its sleep. Rather a shocking contrast.

Ed grinned. "Yup. I'd never seen one before either. But Willow Wing assures me they all start out like this."

"It's Willow Wing's?"

"No." Edmund took his time arranging the baby more comfortably. A little noise, a cross between a growl and a purr, rumbled against his chest. The young King's heart thudded. It was his turn to look foolish as he glanced up at his brother and hazarded a smile. "Actually, it's mine."

Peter's whole face seemed to convulse, as if he wasn't sure whether to be amused or horrified. "_What?"_

"_Shhhh!_ Quit _yelling..."_ Edmund stroked his fingers against the warm beak, not wanting the Gryphon's nap to be disturbed.

Peter folded his arms across his chest and frowned. "Edmund, clearly that creature is not actually, um… well, _yours _yours… if you know what I mean…"

Edmund felt his face go quite red, but he couldn't help snickering.

"And since we don't exactly have _pets _here in Narnia, I'm at a loss as to what you mean by this thing being _yours." _The High King raised a stern eyebrow.

Edmund decided it might be wise to get inside. There was a strong wind coming up, and the little Gryphon was beginning to shiver. He pulled the edge of his cloak up over his arm as he walked, tucking the infant under it. "First of all, this is a baby, not a _thing. _And secondly, she's a girl, so you can stop referring to her as _it. _Unfortunately, I can give you no other name to call her by just now…" Edmund grinned as they crossed the Great Hall. "Since I haven't decided on one yet."

Peter froze halfway up the staircase. "You're _naming _it?"

"_Her!"_

"Alright, _her!" _Peter tossed his hands up in the air. "Forgive me, Edmund, if the idea of my seventeen-year-old brother parenting a baby Gryphon – a baby of _any _race, in fact – seems just a little bit ludicrous."

Silently, Edmund agreed. _What __**have**__ I gotten myself into, _he wondered. He shifted his grip on the Gryphon infant as he pushed open the door to the four sovereigns' private sitting room.

A protesting squeak issued from the half-asleep little creature, and she went stiff.

Ed looked down, hurriedly returning his arm to its former posture. "Sorry, Baby," he murmured.

Slowly, he felt the small, warm body relax against him. The dull tan beak opened wide, exposing a bright pink tongue. She yawned.

_Oh Aslan! _Edmund thought giddily, hardly daring to breathe. _I'm in love!_

"_Ed…"_

He sighed at his brother's exasperated tone. "Peter, I assure you that I will explain everything to you and the girls. _After _I've made her a nest and something to eat."

Peter actually grinned. "So you're _nesting _now?"

Edmund turned scarlet. "I suppose," he muttered.

His brother just laughed.

Sighing, Edmund rang a small bell. A moment later, the door opened. A Cherry Dryad fluttered into the room and bowed to him. "Welcome home, Your-" She stopped short, eyes widening at the sight of the little bundle in His Highness's arms.

Edmund blushed pinker than the Dryad.

Hurriedly, the maiden bowed before him. "Your Majesty. How may I… er, be of service?"

Edmund tried to scrape up as much kingly dignity as he could. No easy task, considering that the creature in his arms had awakened and begun to drool on his sleeve. "I shall need you to fetch a basket, Silkwind. Large enough for this infant to sleep in. And several soft blankets, if you please."

The Dryad appeared to be trying to squelch a smile. "Yes, Sire. A-anything else?"

The Gryphon – whom Edmund had been attempting to dissuade from chewing on his tunic - chose that moment to open her beak and let out a loud, unhappy squawk.

Peter choked back a laugh.

"Some warm milk and honey," Ed gulped. "And some clean rags. She's hungry… I think…"

Bowing and trying desperately not to grin, the Dryad turned and fluttered out of the room.

Edmund flopped down on the sofa and poked at the Gryphon's nibbling beak. "Stop that."

She hissed, then returned to mouthing sloppily on his arm.

Edmund sighed. His tunic was an old one anyway.

"Looks like a feisty little girl," Peter commented. He sat down as well, slinging an arm around his brother. "Sure you're ready to be a dad?"

"Is he _what?"_

Both Kings jumped, startled. The parlor door had swung open again as Susan and Lucy, dressed in riding cloaks and bearing archery sets, entered.

Lucy gave a little cry and ran straight for Edmund, her long auburn hair swinging in his face as she bent to shower him with kisses. "Oh Edmund!"

"Hi Lu," Edmund chuckled, hugging her as best he could with the burden in his arms.

Her blue eyes were wide with delight. "When did you get back?"

Susan came forward to get her share of kisses. "We didn't expect you until tomorrow… what _is _that?"

Edmund followed his sister's shocked expression down to the infant and sighed. _"She _is a baby Gryphon."

"Edmund's adopting it," Peter said flatly.

"_Her."_

"Yes, yes, _her."_

"_Adopting?" _Susan repeated.

"What fun!" Lu cried. "May I hold her? What's her name?"

"Carefully," Edmund admonished, allowing Lucy to scoop the little creature out of his arms and into her lap. "She's kind of heavy. And she doesn't have a name yet. I was hoping you'd help me with that."

"_You _are going to name it? I mean, _her?" _Susan hastily added, seeing the annoyed flash of Ed's dark eyes.

He nodded, shaking his arms out to get feeling back into them. "Yes. By the Mane, that had to be the longest ride home in Narnia's history. She weighs a _ton!" _

Lucy looked up, one of the Gryphon's paws clasped in her slim fingers. "You held her the entire journey?"

Edmund nodded. "A full day on horseback with a baby Gryphon in my arms. Not exactly relaxing."

His little sister giggled and dropped a kiss on the baby's smooth beak. "I _thought _Philip looked amused when we came into the stables!"

"He was," Edmund said dryly.

"Well _I'm _not," Susan cut in. She frowned, brushing her hair back from her forehead. "Edmund, you can't be serious about actually _adopting _a baby…"

"Certainly not!" Peter added. "You have enough responsibilities as it is. You're a King, Ed."

"And as a King I have the responsibility to defend the welfare of my subjects!" Edmund retorted. "Do I not?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"There you have it, then."

Susan sighed. "Oh, Edmund. You're twisting things around. The Gryphons can take care of their own."

"Not this one," Edmund responded quietly.

"Pray tell, why not?"

In response, Edmund gingerly lifted the Gryphon out of Lucy's lap. With ease that had come of practice, he tucked his arm around the downy wings that would soon be sleek with dark golden-brown flight feathers. The velveted paws that would eventually possess fearsome talons stretched toward him trustingly. He pulled the Gryphon close to him, and the blunt beak that would one day gain the curved sharpness of a predator nuzzled into his chest. She made a contented noise and raised her wide black eyes to his.

Edmund forgot to breathe.

A knock at the door jerked Edmund away from the staring match he had got into with her. "Enter!"

Silkwind appeared with a basket, blankets, rags, and a bowl of milk and honey. Her face and voice were suspiciously solemn as she handed the wooden bowl to Edmund. "My Liege." She bowed and made as if to go.

Edmund sighed. "Silkwind."

She turned back. "Highness?"

"It's alright." He grinned awkwardly. "Rather amusing, I guess."

For one instant the Dryad looked shocked. Then she caught Lucy's eye. Lu smiled and nodded. Giggling, the Dryad made a bow and hurried out of the parlor.

"I suppose this shall be all over the castle before nightfall," Edmund grumbled.

"The castle? The whole _kingdom, _Ed," Peter retorted.

"Hmph," Edmund mumbled, sticking his fingers into the bowl. Good. Not too hot. "Considering the fact that little birds actually _do _carry tales in Narnia, I would agree with your assessment." He dipped one of the rags into the bowl and soaked up some of the sweet-smelling concoction, then offered it, dripping, to the Gryphon.

She made a snuffling noise. Then her head jerked toward his hand and she grabbed the rag between her paws, mouthing at it greedily, her rasping tongue wringing the liquid from the cloth. Soft warbling mixed with her hungry grunts.

Edmund sighed and patted her wings with one hand, the other holding firmly to the rag so she wouldn't swallow it. "Good girl."

Susan stared wide-eyed. "You're really serious about this!"

"Of course." Edmund tugged the now drained rag out of the baby's grip. She screeched in protest, and he hastily dipped another. "Why would you think anything else?" He tapped the rag against the Gryphon's beak. She grabbed it and continued with her dinner.

"Well, but… it – she – it's… Edmund!" Susan sputtered. At a loss for words, the Queen flung her hands up and flopped down on the sofa. "Peter, tell him!"

"This is ridiculous!" Peter fussed. "You can't just bring home an infant and expect it – _her_ – to take care of herself! This is a major responsibility for you! Why did you take her from the Gryphons in the first place?"

"Because_ I_ couldn't very well stay with _them, _could I?"

"_Edmund…"_

_"Aslan told me to!"_ Edmund snapped.

Well... _that _shut them up.

He glanced up at his siblings, taking a moment to look into three sets of blue eyes, so different and yet so alike. "I notice no one asked me how my trip went."

Lucy was the first to recover. "How was it?"

"It wasn't what we thought," Edmund replied, offering a fresh rag to the baby. She gnawed at it, eagerly at first, then apparently with waning interest. The young King withdrew the rag, and the Griffin made no protest. Instead, she yawned (that pink tongue again!), and her dark eyes began to flutter. Edmund stroked the top of her head. "But we found the problem and took care of it." His voice, even to his own ears, sounded so very tired.

Lucy stared at him, then jumped up and rang the bell. "I'll have Silkwind serve our dinner in here," she announced. "That will give you plenty of time to tell, Edmund."

"Tell what?"

Lu pulled a footstool up in front of her brother's feet and sat on it, grinning. "The story. Surely you don't bring home a baby Gryphon without there being a _story _attached!"

Edmund opened his mouth to protest, but then he saw Peter and Susan exchange a _look. _He looked down at the Gryphon. She was quite definitely asleep, her belly full of milk and honey. The King smiled grimly when he realized that his _tunic _was now also coated in sweet stickiness.

"Ed!" Lucy swatted at his knee. "Tell!"

"Alright!" he groused. "Just don't expect it to be entirely coherent. She's been keeping me up nights…"

_To Be Continued_

*******

**This ****multi-chapter plot-bunny was no longer content to hang around in my laptop... it wanted to be unleashed! Obviously this will be an Edmund-centered fic, my first attempt at adventure/quest style writing. Philip will also feature heavily in this fic _(Yay!!! _I've been trying to get him into my fics for a while now!)_,_as well as various OC creatures!**

**I've already learned quite a lot about the lore of Gryphons, but if you have any knowledge to share, please feel free to PM me! I will, of course, embellish such legends as I see fit, and will be creating original lore to satisfy the needs of the story*grins***

**Thank you for reading! Any and all reviews are much appreciated!**


	2. Edmund

**Disclaimer: Alas, C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I!**

**Rated: T for intensity**

**Enjoy!**

*******

"Buttons and bobbins! Will Your Majesty never stop _growing?"_

Edmund glanced down at the exasperated Dwarf and smiled. Trimblewin was in the process of fitting Edmund's new suit of armor, and he had just discovered that the young King was an inch taller than he had been a week ago. Peter always said that Ed had started growing the second he set foot in Narnia and hadn't stopped since. Secretly, Edmund hoped he would keep getting taller. Peter was the yardstick the younger King measured himself against, and his elder brother was still three inches taller than he. Edmund wouldn't be satisfied with himself until he could at least look the High King in the eye without also having to look _up._

Fortunately, he wasn't the only one who had to crane his neck when looking at one of the Kings of Narnia. Trimblewin was perched on a high stool so that he could reach Edmund's shoulder. He sighed and tugged at his sandy blond beard. A good Dwarf who had fought on Aslan's side, Trimblewin had fashioned all of Edmund and Peter's armor since their first battle. He was used to the younger King's erratic growth spurts. But that didn't stop him from expressing his opinion.

Edmund chuckled. "Sorry, Trimblewin. I can't help it, you know."

"You could do by putting on a little weight instead of only height," the Dwarf scolded. "At the rate you're going, the armor will be too heavy for you and you'll tip over! The mail is too tight now, isn't it?" At the sovereign's nod, he began marking the armor where it would need to be adjusted. "There now, go take that off. And I'm warning you, if you grow _again _any time soon, you shall just have to go without armor!"

"Is that insubordination I hear in your voice, Trimblewin?" Edmund challenged, hiding a grin as he ducked behind the carved wooden dressing screen.

"Common sense!" the Dwarf retorted, unfazed by His Majesty's apparent sternness.

A laugh filtered through the door of Edmund's chambers. "And when has Ed ever heeded _that?" _came the muffled exclamation.

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Come in, Peter!" he called, slipping into a pair of breeches. As he heard the door swing open, he added, "And don't trip over the-"

_"Oof!"_

Cringing, Ed came out from behind the dressing screen to see his brother sprawled on his hands and knees in the threshold. "Rug," he finished.

Peter gave a sour smile as he got to his feet. "Thanks." He poked his booted toe at the intricate weaving that depicted green and brown vines and gold leaves. "When did _that _get here?"

"This morning," Edmund snorted, pulling a shirt on. "Su thought it would look well."

"And it's been sending able-bodied males to their knees ever since!" Trimblewin groused.

The High King quirked an eyebrow at his brother and grinned. "Ah yes, that _does _sound like Susan…"

Laughing, Edmund turned his back to Peter. His older brother obligingly began tying the back of his tunic shut. "Shall I tell her you said that?"

Peter gently cuffed him upside the head. "No thanks. I'd like to live to see my twenty-first birthday."

"And _I _should like to see King Edmund live to see his eighteenth," Trimblewin announced, folding his arms across his barrel chest. "King Peter, can you not order your brother to eat more? Surely there must be some sort of royal commandment against starving oneself to death!"

"I do not!" Edmund protested.

"Trimblewin," Peter chuckled and slung an arm around his brother. "Edmund eats like a young giant. He's just growing faster than his appetite can keep up with. However, I'm sure that if you mention it to Queen Susan-"

_"No!" _Edmund yelled, shoving Peter away. "Or I tell her what you said about the rug!"

"And then _I _shall forbid you from going outside the castle for a month!" Peter returned, shoving back.

"You'd _ground _me?"

"For lack of a better term, _yes _I would!"

Trimblewin rolled his eyes. "I shall leave Your Majesties to settle this matter in private."

"Thanks Trimblewin," Edmund said sheepishly.

The Dwarf bowed and stalked out the door, Edmund's chain mail draped over one arm and an amused smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

The High King turned his blue eyes toward Ed's dark brown. He smiled and hugged his brother. "Good morning."

"Morning, Peter." Edmund returned the embrace affectionately. "We missed you. You must have got in late to not get up for breakfast!"

Peter nodded as they walked into the hall together. "Three in the morning… hullo Syless!" he greeted a passing Hedgehog.

"Sire!" the little female bowed delightedly, her quills laying flat against her back as King Peter reached down to clasp her paw. "So good to have you home," she said, her eyes beaming with affection for the eldest sovereign.

"Good to _be _home," he responded, chuckling. When the Hedgehog curtsied and continued on her way, Peter turned back to Edmund. "I stayed far longer than I should have but…" He cast a weary grin at his brother. "Archenland does insist on making a fellow feel welcome."

"I remember," Edmund nodded. Then he sighed and laid his head against Peter's shoulder. "Well, at least they didn't expect you to stay a month, like they did last time. I'm glad to have you home," he added, a smile in his voice. "And I'm not letting you out of my sight for a week, d'you hear?"

The High King cleared his throat. "Um, about that, Ed…"

Edmund raised his head and looked at Peter suspiciously. "You're not leaving again so soon, are you?"

"No," Peter chuckled. "I'm well aware that you three would tie me hand and foot if I attempted it! But I may have a task for _you, _Edmund."

"Really?" Edmund perked up, brown eyes alert and snapping. "Concerning what, pray tell?"

Amused by his brother's easily stirred curiosity, the elder of the two responded, "I don't have all the details yet. Highfleet told me last night when I came in that there was something of a… well, 'a mystery among the Gryphons' is what he said, but to me it sounds more like an emergency."

Edmund frowned, thinking of the sleek golden creatures that darted across Narnia's skies with abandon.

"He said," Peter continued, "That he got word yesterday from the Heights. You know where that is Ed? The ancestral home of the Gryphonss? Any way, he said that members of the tribe have begun to go missing."

"Missing?"

"And not returning."

Edmund digested this. "I would agree with you," he said finally. "That _does _sound like an emergency. And a mystery."

"I'd go myself, but-"

"No, no," Edmund interrupted. "You just got home. I shall go."

"Thanks Ed," Peter chuckled, ruffling his dark curls. "You're a good little brother."

Edmund scowled and ducked away. "Will you never _stop _doing that?" He blushed, throwing an embarrassed glance at a Cat and Badger who hid smiles of amusement as they passed in the hall. "Honestly, when you're away I forget that you're such a _nuisance!"_

"Ah, so absence _does _make the heart grow fonder!"

"No," Edmund retorted, "Just less wary."

"Oh Ed!" Peter laughed. He managed to get an arm around his brother.

Edmund stiffened his shoulders. "Do quit babying me Peter, please!

The High King's pulled Ed to a stop in the hall, putting both hands on his shoulders. "Edmund!" His brow furrowed. "Brother, I don't mean any harm. You know that, right?"

Edmund gave an exasperated sigh, but nodded.

"But you'll always be my younger brother…" Worry filtered into his blue eyes.

"Emphasis on _younger_," Edmund said quietly. "Peter, I'm not Lucy, alright? I'm not content to stay a child."

"But you do sometimes still _act _like one," Peter reminded him. "That stunt with the Satyr that Susan wrote to me about, that-"

"Oh, so now Susan feels the need to report on my behavior, does she?" Edmund cried.

"A good thing she does," Peter insisted. "I'd tear my hair out with worry if I were simply imagining all the scrapes you could get yourself into! At least this way I know what you are and _are not _up to!"

Disgusted, Edmund jerked away from his brother's grip and glared at him. "Why don't you just _trust _me?"

"I think I show plenty of trust!" Peter retorted. "I'm sending you on an assignment, aren't I? Although if you get into some kind of mess before then I'll-"

Edmund wailed. _"Peter!"_

"Alright, alright!" Peter held up both hands in defeat. He sighed and reached out, catching Ed's chin in his hand.

For a moment the younger King refused to look. But at the determined tugging of his brother's fingers, he turned and let his dark eyes burn into Peter's gaze.

"Ed," Pete said gently. "I love you, ok? I just don't want you getting hurt. And it's hard to break the habits of seventeen years' worth of wanting to keep you safe…"

Edmund gripped his brother's wrists with his hands. "Peter, loving me is fine. Not wanting me to get _hurt _is fine. Even protecting me is _fine. _I just wish," he said quietly, "That you'd see me as an adult. _Please," _he added.

Peter stared at him for a long, thoughtful moment.

When it became obvious that no declaration of adulthood was to be forthcoming from the High King just yet, Edmund sighed and shrugged off his brother's hands, turning toward the stone staircase that led to the watch towers. "I'm going to see Highfleet, okay?"

"Ed?"

Reluctantly, he turned back.

Peter smiled. "Love you," he said insistently.

Edmund gave a grim smile. "Love you too, Peter." Then he turned and ran up the steps.

*******

The Gryphons of Cair Paravel kept their quarters in the highest tower of the castle. Highfleet and six other of the creatures held constant watch, and often accompanied their Majesties on missions, serving as aerial guards. One of the females, Willow Wing, had also recently given Lucy flying lessons on her back. Lu claimed it was glorious, but Edmund had yet to try it.

Edmund opened the tower door to find five of the Gryphons resting on the sun-warmed stone. A glance told him that the other two were aloft, circling the Cair in wide spirals. For a moment he simply stared, enjoying the sweep of their massive wings, and the way they seemed to paw at the air like a galloping Horse would beat his hooves upon the ground.

_Good thing Philip can't fly, _he thought lazily. He strode forward.

"Your Majesty!" Highfleet stood at once, followed by the others. He bowed his head gracefully, then locked his piercing gold eyes on Edmund's face. "May I assume that the High King has told you of our concerns?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Edmund nodded and sat himself on one of the carved stone ledges, running his fingers lightly over the rough surface. "Yes. He told me of the disappearances. But I should like to hear it from you as well, Gryphons. There does not seem to be much information to go on."

"There is not," Willow Wing spoke up. "Very late yesterday evening, my cousin alighted here, and told me that Gryphons had begun to go missing from the Heights, one or two at a time. He was very anxious over it and said that the tribe had decided to ask your royal family for help. Poor Gale Eye!" The Gryphon shook her head worriedly. "He was so tired, but he would not stay for anything. Had only come to deliver the message, he said, and then must get back before his mate got to thinking that he had gone missing as well."

"They sent only your cousin?" Edmund asked.

Willow Wing drew herself up proudly. "He is very brave," she declared. "Gale Eye would not hear of them sending more than one, in case something _should _happen."

"Brave indeed," Edmund murmured.

A fluttering motion caught his attention. One of the flying Gryphons had swooped close to him on the tower, its wings spread in salute, before soaring back into the sky. The young King smiled and saluted in return, watching the feathers at the tip of the creature's tail spread out like palm leaves as he banked. Edmund returned his attention to the Gryphons in the tower.

"The High King has agreed that I shall join you at the Heights to investigate this matter. I believe it is almost a full day's journey?"

"Perhaps for a Horse or Centaur, Sire. Less for a Gryphon," said Highfleet.

Edmund nodded. "Philip and Delius shall accompany us," he said, thinking aloud as he often did when planning, "And a small contingent. How many Gryphons are there in the Heights?"

"There _were _almost thirty," Willow Wing said sadly. "I believe Gale Eye said they… lost seven."

Edmund shuddered. He hadn't realized it was _that _bad! "And which of you shall come with me?"

"Willow Wing and I," said Highfleet. Edmund saw the other Gryphons exchange unhappy glances, but their leader was firm. "I agree with Gale Eye. We cannot risk any more than are absolutely necessary! You five shall remain to guard the sovereigns. Understood?"

"Yes, Highfleet," said a soft-spoken female whom Edmund knew as Featherfoot. "Safe journey."

Highfleet nodded. "When do we leave, Your Majesty?"

"At first dawn tomorrow," Edmund decided. "That shall give us enough time to prepare for the journey. You will speak to Hivus about a map for us land-bound travelers?"

"Certainly, I shall inquire with the Badger."

"Good." Edmund got to his feet. "I shall meet with you again this evening."

"Thank you, My King," said Willow Wing softly. "These disappearances are… most unsettling."

Edmund bent to put a gentle hand upon her back, and his fingers sank into the soft downiness between her wings. She raised wide golden eyes, darkened with worry.

"We shall discover what is wrong," he said firmly. "I promise you that."

*******

"I don't trust them," Philip announced.

Edmund glanced up from the apple he had just bitten into. "What's the matter?" he mumbled around the mouthful of fruit. "They taste alright to me."

The Horse snorted and shoved his nose against the King's shoulder. "I wasn't talking about the _apples, _Edmund!" He jerked his head in the general direction of the castle. "I was talking about _those _creatures."

Edmund craned his head to look. From where he and Philip sat under a tree in the orchard, the view of Cair Paravel spread before them, inviting all to look and be content. The young King knew that many beasts dwelt within its walls, but the only creatures clearly visible at that moment were the Gryphons circling above.

"Oh." Edmund polished another apple against his tunic, then offered it to Philip. The Horse took it delicately between his teeth. "Why not, Phil?"

"Because they are neither land nor air creatures, but half of each," Philip responded after he had crunched away on the apple for a few minutes. "And they choose not to remain in one place or the other, but to divide their time between the two. They do not seem… rooted."

"Grounded, you mean," said Edmund, smiling. "One could say the same about Pegasus, Phil."

"Oh Edmund!" The Horse tossed his head. "The Pegasus have been around since Aslan created Narnia. _As have horses. _But these Gryphons… I've no idea when they came into being. How do you know they weren't part of _her _plans?"

Edmund shuddered in distaste at the reference to _her, _but his voice was firm. "Because Aslan specifically named them as part of our royal guard. He's told us they can be trusted." He leaned his head back against the tree trunk and studied his friend, frowning. "Why do you bring this up now, Philip? You seemed fine with accompanying the Gryphons when I spoke to you about it this morning."

"Indeed. I like to be where I can keep an eye on you."

Exasperated, Edmund chucked a half-rotted apple at the gate, resulting in a rather spectacular splatter on the wood. "First Peter, now you! Why does every one assume I'm going to find myself in trouble?"

"Because trouble has a habit of finding _you," _The Horse retorted. "Edmund, you must admit that you've had more than your fair share of scrapes in the past six years… and more than all those years put together just in the last few _months!"_

Edmund groaned and rolled over on his stomach, digging his face into the sweet grass.

Philip went on undeterred. "You broke your knee trying to scale the castle wall-"

"That was Oreius's idea," Edmund protested. "I wasn't even that high up! And it was part of my training!"

"I refuse to believe that the noble Centaur failed to instruct you on the proper use of a little thing called a _rope."_

Face-down on the grass, Edmund smiled. "I was trying to test my grip, Phil."

"So I heard," the Horse responded dryly. "You nearly drowned-"

"Well _someone _had to inspect the bridge!"

Philip shoved him in annoyance. "Had you let Mr. Beaver do it like he _offered-"_

"I never ask my subjects to do something I wouldn't do myself!" Edmund said snappishly.

"Well that's informative," the Horse snorted. "Remind me of that next time you ask me to saddle up. We can switch duties, Your Majesty."

Edmund scowled and turned his back on Philip.

"And as for the Satyr-"

"He attacked me!" Edmund fussed. "What was I supposed to do, not defend myself?"

Philip rolled his eyes. "I was there, remember? You could have disarmed him and been done with it. And yet you let him toy with you, and wound up nearly getting run through!"

Unconsciously, Edmund rubbed at the hip where the Satyr's sword had sliced into his skin, missing his stomach by just inches. He had indeed escaped death by a narrow margin. Philip had practically picked him up in his teeth and dragged him home to Lucy, where her cordial did its job and his two sisters and Horse companion scolded him fiercely.

Philip nudged at his shoulder. Unhappy brown eyes met deep chestnut. "You keep 'testing' things, and you keep getting hurt," the Horse said softly. "We're concerned for you, Edmund."

"Who's 'we'?" the young King asked, suddenly suspicious.

His friend snapped his teeth in annoyance. "All of us! Me, Oreius, Queen Susan, the courtiers-"

"And Peter!" Ed cut in, disgusted. "It figures. Did _he _ask you to have this little chat with me?"

"No," said the Horse.

"Don't lie, Phil."

"It's not a lie to say that _I _personally am concerned for you," Philip retorted, skirting the issue. "And that I feel better about this venture with the Gryphons if I know I'm going along with you. I like to have you on my back, safely on the _ground."_

Edmund stared at him. Then he began laughing, much to Phil's bemusement.

"Philip!" he gasped. "You're _jealous!"_

"I am not!" the Horse whinnied.

"You are too! You're worried that if once I ride a Gryphon, I won't care to ride _you _any more!"

Philip snorted and turned his head away.

Edmund scrambled around and took the Horse's nose in his hands. The dark chestnut eyes rolled indignantly, refusing to look at the King.

"Phil, you want to know a secret?"

His friend shook his mane but consented to look Edmund in the eye.

"I don't much like heights either," Ed confessed.

The Horse looked surprised. "Why Edmund!"

The young King grinned. "It's true. I'm a lot better than I used to be, I suppose. Otherwise there's no _way _Oreius could have gotten me up that castle wall. But I used to be just awful about it. The first time I saw you and had to climb on your back, I thought I was going to die of fright!"

Philip actually laughed. "And all this time I thought the reason you were shaking in your boots was because you didn't know I was a _Talking _Horse, and you feared I'd run away or throw you!"

"Well, I didn't know that either," Edmund admitted. "But I soon learned." He chuckled and rubbed the Horse's reddish mane. "Didn't I, 'Horsey'?"

The Horse snorted but did not seem displeased. Edmund took that as permission to rest his face against Philip's neck, combing his fingers through the coarse mane. Philip whickered contentedly. A soft breeze came up, and he lifted his nose to the air. "We'll get rain tonight," he predicted.

"Mmm," Edmund murmured, enjoying the familiar roughness under his fingers and the comfortable smell of Horse. "I hope it shan't be wet in the morning."

"Indeed," Philip chuckled, nosing at his dark curls. "Nothing spoils a Horse's appearance worse than having a soggy Son of Adam on his back!"

***

Edmund found supper to be a little tense.

Susan was disappointed, for having just got Peter back that morning, she had been looking forward to having all four of them together for the first time in two weeks. Learning that Edmund was to leave on the morrow had ruined her plans for a few days devoted entirely to the Pevensies just being with one another.

Lucy had lost her voice almost completely in the course of the day and was therefore unusually quiet. She too was upset, for she and Edmund had intended to visit with Mr. Tumnus the next day, for an afternoon of story-telling.

Peter was the worst of the lot. In between stilted snippets of conversation and a rather distracted attempt at eating his meal, the High King kept sending miserable glances Edmund's way. The younger King did his best to ignore it. There was really no reason for Peter to get all worked up about what had happened, Edmund thought. But sooner or later he was going to have to learn that Ed was an adult and treat him as such… even if that meant a little discomfort for a while.

Still, he decided that an overly long, overly quiet supper with his unhappy siblings was perhaps a bit _too _much discomfort. Halfway through his dessert, he stood.

"I'd best take my leave now."

"Oh Edmund!" Susan set her goblet back down on the table, clearly upset. "You can't mean to go to bed now! It's so early yet."

Edmund bent down to drop a kiss on her cheek. "Sorry Su, but I've promised Highfleet I'd meet with him, and then I've a dozen other things to do before I can even think about going to bed. And we'll be leaving far earlier than you will want to wake."

With a sigh, Susan stood and embraced him. "Very well. Aslan be with you, my brother."

Edmund nodded and let her go. Then he knelt in front of Lucy to hug her. "Do give Tumnus my regards, Lu. I'm dreadfully sorry I can't come."

Lucy squeezed him tightly. "You're missing out terribly," she scolded in a hoarse whisper. "I was planning on telling the story of the Seven Dryads!"

"With that squeak? Poor Tumnus…"

She whacked at his shoulder in annoyance, but Lucy was grinning.

Ed kissed her, chuckling. "Have some honey in your tea, Lu, and I do hope your voice is better by tomorrow, for both your sakes." Then, reluctantly, he stood and turned to his brother. Their eyes met. He sighed inwardly.

Puppy-dog eyes. There was really no other way to describe the half-timid, half-hopeful expression on the High King's face. Edmund ignored it, for once wishing he could get away with something less than a hug. But knowing his brother, it was pointless to even hope. He endured a resounding kiss on the cheek with considerable grace, then returned the gesture with a stiff-armed hug.

"Good night Peter. Don't let anything too exciting happen while I'm gone."

His older brother seemed to cheer considerably at the half-hearted joke. "On the contrary," he said with a chuckle. "Perhaps with you out of the castle, we'll actually have some quiet around here."

Edmund instantly recalled the discussion in the orchard, and his cheeks flamed. "Perhaps I should be gone more often," he said coolly.

Peter's eyes widened as he realized he had said the wrong thing. "Ed!" he gasped in confusion, "I didn't m-"

But Edmund was already out the door, tossing a sharp _"Good night," _over his shoulder. He strode down the hall angrily, letting his frustration propel him away from the stifling dining room, away from his clinging family, away from his smothering older brother, who _dared_ -

_"Ed!" _His brother's voice chased after him in the hall.

Edmund sighed and turned on his heel. It was no use running. Peter was still the faster of the two. He waited resignedly for his brother to catch up to him.

The High King came to a halt in front of him, that same dogged worry in his eyes. He stood for a moment, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other, until finally he motioned for Edmund to continue. With a sigh, the younger King did so, gesturing for Peter to join him in the walk to the tower.

This, at least, seemed to ease Peter's conscience somewhat, and he fell into step. After a few moments in which the only sounds were those of their boots on the stone, he offered a comment. "It's not a big deal you know, Ed."

"It is and it isn't," Edmund countered, knowing exactly what his brother was referring to without having to ask. "On the one hand, yes, I am younger and yes, I am your brother." He shot Peter a glance. "Your _brother," _he reminded him, "Not your child. I'm older than you were when we first came to Narnia, when you started acting like a parent."

"Because you three needed it," his brother put in quickly. "Not because I wanted to lord over you or anything…"

Edmund laughed unexpectedly, surprising them both. "Oh really, High King? Well, you now have the title that allows you to lord over us all as much as you wish." He smiled when Peter chuckled, but then sobered. "Peter…" He paused, catching his brother's wrist in his hand. The two stared at one another. "You shouldn't _have to _always be the oldest."

Peter looked confused. "But I am the oldest."

"I know… I know. But I'm just saying that maybe you need to give it a rest. Let us take care of ourselves for a while. Or at least let _me _take care of myself for a while. Don't worry about me."

His brother stared at him. "That," Peter said finally, with a little smile, "Is something that will never happen."

Edmund groaned.

"Sorry," Peter apologized, not sounding the least bit penitent. "I think it's my job to worry about you. Ever since you were born," he added softly, reaching to touch his brother's pale brow.

Edmund jerked away sharply. _"You see? _You can't even look at me without thinking of me as a baby! A _little _baby," he said witheringly.

The High King said nothing, but his wide blue eyes searched Edmund's face in bewilderment.

"Admit it!" Edmund pressed angrily.

"No," Peter finally said in a firm voice. "No, I don't see you as a baby. But _sometimes _I see you as I did six years ago, Edmund. Bleeding to death on a battlefield, stabbed by someone who… who hurt you in so many more ways than-"

"Will you _stop _worrying about that!" Edmund sputtered. "Peter, I'm not a _victim _either! By the Mane, that's even _worse _than being a baby!"

"Ed!"

"Stuff it, Peter," Edmund growled, the staccato of his steps ringing against the smooth stone as he resumed his journey to the tower.

_"Edmund…"_

"And don't follow me this time!"

Without looking back, he stalked down the corridor, torches guttering in his wake.

***

Edmund lay staring at his ceiling

First he had counted the total number of Dryads carved into the wooden panels. Then he had counted the number of Dryads with coiffed hair. He counted the number of Dryads with loose hair. He added those numbers together and found that it was different than the total number of Dryads, so he started over.

He sighed.

It wasn't unusual for him and his brother to disagree. It was, Edmund realized, just as good for him and Peter to battle verbally and emotionally as it was for them to spar on the training grounds. In both instances they learned one another's weaknesses and strengths, learned to break each other down and help one another back up. It was good for the Kings to have one another, to keep each other sharp. Even Susan and Lucy were unaware of just how frequent the two's arguments were. They fought regularly, but privately. One thing they never disagreed on was that having a pair of bickering young men on the throne wouldn't be good for Narnia's image.

_Of course, _Edmund thought as his eyes wearily traced the outline of a seated Dryad with coiffed hair and a harp, _an insomniac King who can't do basic addition is probably not good for Narnia's image, either…_

He whipped the blankets around him and turned over on his side, thinking that perhaps he was getting a little too intent on those dumb carvings. It was starting to annoy him that the numbers weren't matching up. He shut his eyes, determined to fall asleep so that he wouldn't fall out of the saddle on the morrow.

Half an hour, seven shifts in bed, and twenty-one (or was it twenty-two?) Dryads later, Edmund got up, stalked out of his room, down a short hall, and right through his brother's bedroom door.

Peter sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and luminous in the dark. _"Ed? _What-"

_"Shush,"_Edmund hissed. He shoved his apparently wide-awake brother over and crawled into bed. "You'd better appreciate this, Peter," he grumped as he burrowed down under the covers. "Having your _baby _brother come share the bed with you is not something he's exactly thrilled about."

There was a moment of silence after Ed stopped arranging the bedding.

Then his brother's curious voice. "So why _did _you come?"

"Insomnia," Edmund yawned, resisting the urge to creep closer to the warmth at his side. "And you're just boring enough that you send me straight to sleep."

There was a throaty chuckle, and the young King felt an arm loop around him, his brother's warmth enveloping him. This time he didn't shy away. He scooted over and wrapped his arms around Peter's shoulders, relishing the familiarity of it all. He sighed contentedly, and felt his brother give a matching sigh.

"Ed," Peter whispered after a minute, "I'm sorry I-"

"Hush, Peter," Edmund said, gently now. "I know. We'll talk when I get back, okay? Right now I need some shut-eye."

The High King smiled at him in amusement. "Little brother, you are something else." Then he snuggled his face up against Ed's shoulder.

Edmund was almost asleep when Peter's voice whispered in his ear.

"Hey Ed?"

"Mm?"

"Did you know there are eighteen Water-Sprites carved in my ceiling?"

*******

**Fun Fact #1: A Gryphon is most commonly defined as a creature with the body of a Lion and the head, wings, and forefeet of an Eagle. A Gryphon with the forefeet of a Lion is known as an Opinicus, and a wingless Gryphon is called an Alce.**

*******

**First of all, thanks so much to all who have reviewed Chapter 1! I got a kick out of writing it, and I'm glad it made you laugh or awww or both!**

**Just a little note: the majority of the story is in my head or on voice recorder, not on paper! I apologize in advance if updates are not as frequent as we would all like. Know that I love this story and want to get it right before posting.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. The Heights

**Disclaimer: Alas, C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I!**

**Rated: T for intensity**

**Definition (per Wikipedia): **"An inselberg is an isolated rock hill, knob, ridge, or small mountain that rises abruptly from a gently sloping or virtually level surrounding plain." In the U.S. this is also called a monadnock, which sounds to me like the sensation of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth…

**Enjoy!**

*******

"Edmund, for the Lion's sake, will you quit trying to pretend you're not half-asleep and come ride on my back?"

The King groaned and rolled over. He had tripped over something. A hidden rock, a tussock of grass, maybe even the dratted little Shrew that insisted on accompanying him every time he went on an assignment. He really couldn't remember what had caused his fall. Edmund only knew that one moment he had been walking peacefully at Philip's side with a hand on the Horse's neck, and the next moment he had crashed to earth.

Despite having bunked with his brother the night before, Edmund had not slept well. Sleep came and went, and sleep such as that was worse than no sleep at all, for it exhausted him. As it was, Edmund had managed to get away when Peter was still buried under the covers and too drowsy to manage more brotherly over-protectiveness than a groggy hug and admonition to eat some breakfast. Had he known that his brother would fall flat on his face not two hours into the journey, the High King would undeniably have forbidden Edmund from going.

Ed pushed himself up on his elbows, wiping dirt and clinging bits of grass from his face. His cheek stung, and when he pulled his hand away, he saw a smear of blood. He shook his head and got to his feet.

Delius, the dark-haired Centaur guard, stood patiently behind Philip. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright, King Edmund?"

"Of course. Let's get moving."

The Centaur's tail flicked against his dun-colored flanks. "Perhaps," he said slowly, "Your Majesty might prefer a rest."

Edmund opened his mouth to object, but Philip spoke first. "A good idea, Delius."

"We really should keep on the move," the King pointed out. "As it is, we're not going to reach the Heights before nightfall. We haven't the time to waste."

The Horse snorted and tossed his head before leveling a look at Edmund. "Rest or ride, Edmund. I won't have it any other way."

The young King folded his arms over his chest. "You're bordering on insubordination, you know."

Philip simply nodded.

Edmund pressed his lips together tightly, making a point of saying nothing as he deliberately stepped into the stirrup of Philip's saddle and swung up. The Horse snorted happily. The Centaur nodded approval. Edmund rolled his eyes.

"Let's move," he ordered.

For the next half hour they traveled quietly in the soft morning sunshine. Early birds darted around them, calling out greetings in their sweet, high voices. Edmund felt himself begin to relax. The slow, steady motion of the Horse's gait under him was making it difficult to stay awake. When Philip finally spoke, his low voice barely reached Edmund's ears.

"We never did finish our conversation, you know."

"What conversation?" Ed murmured in a drowsy voice.

"The one about why you keep getting hurt."

Edmund swore inwardly as he realized that he hadn't been alert enough to see where this was going. "I thought you wanted me to rest."

Philip swung his head around and flicked an ear. "I thought you weren't tired."

Edmund growled.

His friend sidled off the path a bit more, allowing some distance to come between the two of them and the rest of the contingent. "Come, Edmund. You know you can tell me anything."

"There's nothing to tell."

"You just fell asleep while _walking," _Philip accused. "You apparently tripped over nothing more than your own two feet. If I didn't know better, I'd say you fainted."

Edmund knew bait when he heard it, and he knew better than to rise to it. He shook his head. "Maybe I'm just a little accident prone."

"That would imply clumsiness, which you have _not," _Philip snorted.

"Recent events would suggest otherwise, wouldn't they?"

The Horse swung his head around, locking eyes with Edmund. "Would they?" he asked.

Edmund, recalling their conversation in the orchard, shut his mouth.

Philip surveyed his King for a long moment.

"Edmund," he said finally, "I'm going to be keeping an eye on you."

***

Evening drew near as they approached the Heights. The lush Narnian countryside of hills and forests had thinned into long stretches of flat plains and towering rock formations, and the occasional dunes swelling up from the ground. Across the sandy soil they had traveled for the better part of the afternoon, the vegetation growing more and more rare. There was none at all when daylight finally slunk below the horizon, stalked by the shadow of night.

Edmund, despite having traveled to many corners of his kingdom, had been unaware that country such as this existed in his realm. "Desert," he murmured.

"Sand," Philip muttered in reply, slogging determinedly through the stuff. "It's worse than the beach."

"I thought you liked the beach, Phil."

The Horse snorted and sneezed. "I do, but for the sand. And at least on the shore, the ocean keeps the sand wet enough that it stays on the ground _where it belongs. _This stuff just flies up and stings me in the face."

As Edmund wiped a damp handkerchief over the Horse's face in an attempt to get the loose grit out of his eyes and nose, he wondered aloud how the Gryphons managed to survive in such a dry, bare country.

Highfleet, a shadowy bulk with glowing eyes, heard him. "Spring comes even in the desert, Your Majesty. We have wet months just like every other part of Narnia."

"But you're predators," Edmund pointed out as they crested the rise of the tallest dune he had seen yet. "You depend on the well-being of your prey for your own survival. How can they possibly-"

He stopped short in surprise and squinted through the half-light.

In front of him, a hollow valley spread, speckled with clumps of sturdy grasses and flowers. Short, squat trees brooded over their thick trunks, heavy leaves barely moving in the breeze. In the half-dark he could see small, shadowy shapes darting and frisking from one crumbling rock to another. Several hundred yards away, a nearly sheer inselberg rose straight up from the plain, an assortment of brush and boulders huddled at its foot.

"Oh," said Edmund.

Highfleet lashed his tail in amusement. "Indeed."

"A surprise, is it not?" Willow Wing laughed. "I imagine it must have been so for our ancestors when they first came here. It was also in the spring, if legend holds true."

Philip stopped sampling the short, crunchy grass to flick his ears in puzzlement. "I though you Gryphons were native to this area."

The female shook her head. "No. Legend tells that Aslan guided us here hundreds of years ago."

"Really?" said Edmund. "I should be interested to hear the tale."

Willow Wing chuckled and shook her head. "I shan't torment you with my poor story-telling abilities, my King. Gale Eye is most suited to that task and will be more than happy to accommodate you, I am sure. That is," she added, "If present circumstances allow him time to tell the story properly."

The company advanced toward the Heights. Their torches served to discourage the smaller predators in the valley from doing more than staring curiously at this strange cavalcade of creatures. Twenty minutes more brought the Narnians to the foot of the inselberg.

Highfleet lifted his face into the breeze, sniffing at the air. "It _smells _alright," he said cautiously.

"So Gale Eye said," Willow Wing nodded. She tilted her head back and studied the cliff face. "Look, King Edmund. Do you see the long, dark crack in the side of the rock?"

Edmund peered up at the mass in front of him. A thin shadow stretched toward the top. "Yes."

"You see where it branches to the left, and makes a kind of shelf? Just above that ledge, see the shadow that curves?"

Again the young King's eyes searched the wall of stone in front of him. Again he found the landmark that the Gryphon had pointed out for him. "Yes, I see it."

"That is the entrance to the Heights."

Edmund considered this before nodding his approval. The Heights appeared to be nothing more complex than a jagged hole in a wall of rock, but it had the advantage of being defensible and out of the reach of predators. For the Gryphons, of course, this presented no problem as long as they were capable of flight.

Willow Wing sat staring up into the dark, her eyes searching intently for something. "A guard has seen us," she said finally, then sat back and gave a long screech. It was a jarring cry that made the sand vibrate, an ancient, fossil-dry kind of sound that made Edmund's skin crawl. Beside him, Philip snorted and tossed his mane.

There was an immediate screech in response.

A figure appeared in the mouth of the cavern, a spot of comparative lightness against the darkened entrance. Edmund watched with interest as a big Gryphon dove from the Heights and swooped low over the desert, circling above Willow Wing and the contingent. At last it pulled straight up in front of the female Gryphon, back-winging so that it could land on its hind feet.

In the torchlight, what one noticed first about the Gryphon was that he was darker than his fellows. His fur and feathers tended more toward brown than gold – teak as opposed to tawny. The creature was bigger than the average Gryphon as well, solidly muscled from head to tail. But when he turned his proud face to Edmund, the young King had to hold in a gasp. For while one eye had the traditional ring of gold around a black pupil, the other was a pool of dark, swirled blue. Edmund knew at once that this must be the Gryphon called Gale Eye, the solemn elder of these ancient creatures.

Consequently, he was rather startled when the big Gryphon, upon landing, gave a sudden whoop and knocked Willow Wing over flat and tumbled with her into the sand, laughing.

The female Gryphon screeched again and fought her way up from her cousin's enthusiastic embrace. "Really, Gale Eye!" she panted. "Have you no sense of propriety, that you pounce upon me like a nestling?"

The elder laughed. "I am happy to see you, good Cousin, and wished to express myself."

"And is that any excuse for knocking me off my feet in front of one of the Kings of Narnia?" scolded Willow Wing, a chuckle fighting its way up into her voice.

Gale Eye lashed his tail and considered this. Then he turned a smiling visage to Edmund and bowed politely. "You will forgive me, Your Majesty. There is a time and place to be formal, just as there is and a time and place to simply be thankful that one's family has arrived home safely." The big Gryphon turned his face to his cousin, a glint of pure affection in his eyes. "Of this, I am sure you are aware."

Edmund, recalling how eager he had been to hug his brother when he came home the day before, had to smile. "Yes, I think I am."

"You see, Cousin?" Gale Eye chortled in his deep voice.

Willow Wing sighed and nudged her face against his shoulder, saying in an amused voice, "I see that you are as young as ever you were, Cousin. And do not think I do not envy you."

A breeze kicked up suddenly, causing everyone except the Gryphons to duck away from the stinging sand that swirled up at the foot of the inselberg.

"We'd best get under shelter," Gale Eye announced. "The sand can cause discomfort if you are unaccustomed to it."

Edmund nodded. "I'll go up with you I suppose, and then the others can-"

Philip snorted loudly. "Edmund – pardon me, _King _Edmund. I am _not _letting you go up there alone!"

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Philip! I'll be perfectly safe-"

"Here on the ground!" the Horse cut in.

"Pardon me Majesty," Delius said calmly. "But I must agree with Philip. As a matter of security, I cannot allow you to enter the Heights until I have determined that it is safe for you."

Edmund raised an eyebrow. "Really, Delius! You make it sound as if I was about to walk into a den of vipers! I'm surprised the Gryphons don't throw you out on your ear."

"On the contrary," Gale Eye chuckled. "I think your captain is most wise. I can see we shall all sleep more soundly at night with _him _around!"

The young King sighed and considered the sheer cliff. "The question now, Delius, is how to get you up to the cavern mouth, since I don't believe _you _can fly."

"It would appear not to be Aslan's will for me," said Delius solemnly.

"Would he be too heavy for two of you to carry?" Edmund asked the Gryphons.

Gale Eye laughed. "Well, no, but-"

"Good. Perhaps if we made a sling of sorts?"

Delius nodded. "A good idea."

"That really won't be necessary-"

Edmund shook his head. "No, I think it's the best way. You can't carry him on your back like you will me. Delius shall go up first, then I shall ride up once he signals to me."

"With me right behind you," Philip declared.

"Oh Phil!" Edmund groaned.

"You need not," Willow Wing began.

"Oh yes I do!" the Horse snorted. "Where the King goes, I go." He swung his head about to face Edmund, a significant look in his eye. "Is that understood?"

The King finally shook his head in exasperation. "Very well, Philip. Good Gryphons, if you please."

The Gryphons looked at one another, then shrugged.

"As you wish," said Gale Eye with a smile.

Several lengths of rope were procured and - with a little padding from camp blankets - shaped into a large sling. Edmund helped Delius step into the arrangement, checking to be sure that the various ropes were secure and not cutting into the Centaur's flesh. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Alright then," said Edmund to the Gryphons positioned on either side of Delius. "Be careful with him."

Delius actually shot him an amused look.

"Don't worry, Majesty," Gale Eye chuckled. He clutched the ropes in his taloned feet. "We shan't break him, and we shall keep him level."

"Be off then," Edmund smiled.

He watched as the two Gryphons crouched and then beat their wings in the air, rising slowly and carefully with the Centaur slung between them.

Philip sidled over to him. "Edmund," he murmured. "Perhaps you'd prefer to ride up on my back."

Edmund never took his eyes from the Gryphons and Centaur aloft in the air. "So, you can fly now?"

"No."

"Then why bother to even suggest such a thing?"

The Horse's ears flattened out sulkily. "Doesn't hurt to try," he muttered.

The Gryphons had gained the cavern entrance. Edmund watched the shadowy figures melt into the darkness. A few minutes later, the tall silhouette of his Centaur captain appeared again, waving an all clear. Edmund waved in response. Two more shapes appeared on the ledge and dove down. Highfleet and Gale Eye emerged from the dark, their broad wings pumping mightily in the air.

Gale Eye dropped the rope sling in front of Philip. "Your turn, Horse," he said grandly.

"Goody," Philip mumbled.

Edmund grinned. "You can always stay down here until morning, Phil."

"Like fun."

Chuckling, Edmund helped the Horse get settled comfortably into the sling. Then he turned to Willow Wing. The Gryphon had crouched down upon the ground.

"I am sorry I did not think to bring a harness for you to grip, King Edmund," she apologized. "I believe I left it in Queen Lucy's care, in case one of the other Gryphons at the Cair offered her a ride."

Edmund shook his head as he climbed aboard. "I would far rather know that my sister is safe than worry for myself, Willow Wing. I'll do fine without a harness. Besides, I don't imagine this will be much different than riding bareback," he couldn't resist adding in a teasing tone, throwing the unhappy Philip an amused glance.

The Horse snorted and tossed his head, his expression plainly saying that he would make sure Edmund wasn't very happy then next time he _did _chose to ride bareback.

Willow Wing stood, and Edmund automatically crouched over her back, sensing that he would need to stay flat and grip with his knees to keep out of the way of her wings. The Gryphon nodded approvingly. "Very good, Your Majesty." She stretched her wings. "And now…"

The moment Edmund felt the Gryphon's muscles tighten underneath him to spring, he was reminded of the way Philip tensed before he took a jump. It was a familiar sensation that was immediately swept away by the very _unfamiliar _feeling of shooting straight up into the air, the pounding flurry of strong wings seeking purchase in pure emptiness. Edmund gasped and gripped Willow Wing's feathered shoulders tightly, trying to make himself small and not so dizzy. A sudden rush of warm air engulfed them, an updraft, and to Edmund's surprise, the female Gryphon's flight suddenly leveled out into a smooth glide, straight into the mouth of the cavern. The Gryphon's feet touched ground and she came to a halt.

Willow Wing glanced over her shoulder at him. "Well, Sire?"

The young King shook his head in amazement. "That was so quick."

"You are light to carry," said the Gryphon with a smile. "If you wish, I can take you for a longer ride sometime."

"If Philip can be reconciled to the idea," Edmund laughed. "Thank you, Willow Wing." He slid off the Gryphon's back, peering around in the dark as his eyes adjusted to the difference in light. "Delius?"

"Here, Sire." The Centaur stepped forward. His long hair looked rather windswept, but otherwise he appeared unruffled. "Are you alright, Majesty?"

Edmund nodded, fighting back a little grin. "Quite. That was rather thrilling, don't you think?"

Delius merely raised an eyebrow.

At that moment, there was a clattering noise behind them. Edmund turned to look. Highfleet and Gale Eye appeared in the mouth of the cavern, Philip draped between them in a sling. The Horse's eyes were tightly shut. The moment the Gryphons set him on his feet, his eyes popped open. With a gasp, he tottered forward on his hooves a few inches and then collapsed on the cavern floor, quivering.

"Philip!" Edmund dashed forward and knelt by his friend's side. "Are you alright?"

"C-c-certainly!" The Horse chattered. "I always s-shake like this!"

Edmund swallowed a laugh and stroked Philip's mane. "Poor Phil," he soothed. "Can't all be like Pegasus, now can we dear fellow?"

"No," the Horse shivered. "Oh Edmund, if you love me, please don't _ever _let me do something like that again!"

This time the young King did laugh. He rubbed his hand against Philip's soft nose. "Alright Phil, I promise. Only, how do you expect to get _down _from here?"

"The same way the rest shall come up," Willow Wing spoke up. "Through the tunnel inside of the inselberg."

The Horse, the Centaur, and the King stared at her.

"There's another way up?" Edmund said finally.

Willow Wing bowed her head.

"Why didn't you _tell _me?" Philip whinnied.

The Gryphon shrugged one wing, her eyes glinting with fun.

"You insisted upon accompanying the King, noble Horse."

_To Be Continued_

***

**Fun Fact #2: According to mythology, Gryphons are the traditional enemy of the Horse.**

**I am **_**so **_**sorry that it has taken me this long to update! But between pretty much hating everything I came up with to make this chapter work and being attacked by multiple plot bunnies for other stories, it just plain took a long time. In the end, I suppose it serves its purpose… the next chapter should be better. *grins* Thanks ever so much for your patience everyone, and for all of your reviews! I've also been terribly slow about responding to said reviews, but I am going to get started on that **_**right now!**_

**Also, I now have a section on my profile page called "Plot-Bunny Board." Check it out if you wish to see what I'm working on in between updates!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Illyngophobia

**Disclaimer: **Alas, C.S. Lewis owns the Chronicles of Narnia, not I!

**Rated: _T _**for intensity

**Enjoy!**

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"King Edmund…"

Edmund clung to the wall, eyes screwed tightly shut, his hands clenched in a death grip on the climbing rope that had grown warm with sweat. From below, he heard Oreius calling out to him patiently.

"You are secure, King Edmund. You shall not fall if you remember what you have been taught."

Edmund wasn't really sure when his difficulties with heights began. Oh, he'd always been a little bit _nervous _about heights, but not like this. He didn't think it had started in that other place – the one before Narnia. He vaguely recalled climbing trees and sneaking out of second-story windows on occasion… although, he couldn't remember why it had been necessary to be secretive back _then_. He was pretty sure he hadn't been involved in espionage activities_. _No, he didn't think his sense of uneasiness about being more than fifteen feet off the ground had begun until he had been a King for a few years. It was only then that Edmund experienced the frozen dizziness that prevented him even from enjoying stargazing from his own castle balcony, regardless of the solid stone railing. He discovered this one night when Lucy called to him from the courtyard and, upon looking down, he was promptly scared out of his wits by the way the floor seemed to drop out from under him. Lightheaded with the memory of that moment, he took to avoiding high places entirely.

"Steady now. Take a deep breath and prepare yourself to resume."

Oreius had, at some point, realized Edmund's fear. Knowing that the young warrior might at any time be faced with the necessity of climbing sheer walls or rappelling down cliffs, the General had gently suggested that one of the Fauns teach Edmund the fine points of rock climbing. The mere thought of it had caused panic to shoot through him, but Edmund had agreed to give it a go. Mauris – a sturdy fellow whom Ed knew slightly – wisely allowed the King to start small, and focused his training on the proper methods of handling the ropes and grappling hook, finding toe holds and hand holds, and basic safety. As long as Edmund was close enough to the ground to turn a slip or fall into a jump to safety, he felt secure.

Thirty feet up in the air was definitely too high for comfort.

Oreius, patiently dictating his next steps from below, never varied the timbre of his instructions from one moment to the next. "You have no enemies at this moment, my King. You have only yourself. Take courage."

He felt so horribly helpless, frozen with his fingers sinking into each individual strand of the rope. Strange, though, that although his fingers were so intensely sensitive, and he felt the muscles in his arms burning from the strain of supporting his own weight, Edmund couldn't feel his wrists. A bizarre sensation of nothing there, nothing to connect the two parts of his limbs, pervaded Edmund's being.

"Only the emotions within have the ability to distract you from the task at hand. Acknowledge them. Recognize them. One by one. Now turn them off. Envision yourself as I see you now. Become objective."

Knowing that Oreius wanted some proof that his King had not simply fainted dead away while climbing, Edmund nodded delicately. He struggled to focus himself, trying distractedly to fight away the feeling of a wall so high and fragile it seemed to crumble away beneath his fingers. Trying to do as his General had instructed, to see himself scaling Cair Paravel's south wall. He let out a long breath and opened the eyes of his mind.

Instantly, he saw himself standing on a high, high ledge, overlooking a battlefield. He'd never been so high up before. The ground spilled away from him, gaping wide to reveal a vast and rocky plain, the army, his brother…

Peter had ordered him up there, Edmund remembered hazily, to keep him safe from something more than just swords and arrows. They had fought over it, argued long and hard. Peter had won in the end. Pulled rank on Edmund and packed him off for the cliffs.

Vertigo was pulling rank on him now.

He wished gravity weren't such a trickster. It laughed in his ears, pushing the wall away and then close, like some tattered banner in a fickle breeze. Oreius's voice clambered up to help him, but the dizziness, the weight of something in Narnia's solid ground… he felt it now, dragging at his heels, pulling him down.

And he remembered the feeling of that same something pulling him down onto the battlefield in spite of Peter's ardent commands to please, just do as he was told and _stay put. _And although he had no desire to join the brave troops on the ground – having gotten his first taste of war, of observing what combat was _really _like – when he stared across the horizon Edmund knew it was inevitable. He would go down.

"Your Highness…"

_... what a terribly ironic title…_

"Are you going to be alright?"

Edmund didn't move. The spinning sensation came to a gradual stop. Yes. Yes, he would be alright. It was just like that realization on the cliff. Everything would be fine, if he could learn not to think about it too much. He still couldn't feel his wrists…

"Your Majesty? King Edmund…"

Fascinated, he slowly let the fingers of his left hand ease their grip on the rope. He held his hand in front of his face, staring at the pale curves of flesh and bone and throbbing veins. Then he let his hand drift over the rough surface of the castle wall. His fingers fluttered over the cracks and crevices, seeking not the deeper finger holds. Below, he heard Oreius call up to him in a mild but commanding voice.

"I think that is enough for one day, King Edmund… King Edmund?"

There. An indentation. Barely a dimple in the rock, but it would do. Edmund pressed his fingers down, trusting as much of his weight as he could to the finger hold. His toes were already anchored in the stone below. Now for the right hand…

"King Edmund!"

The rope dropped away. A thrill rushed over him, knowing he was so far off the ground with only his fingers and toes and a vertical wall to depend on.

Below, he heard Oreius shouting in a stern voice.

He barely noticed. The rush of blood in his ears made it easy to ignore anything else. Edmund closed his eyes again. He pressed his face into the wall, reveling in the sense of his own warm breath reflected back on his nose and cheeks. The scent of old, old stone and kindly moss. The rapid echo of his heartbeat.

"I shall send Mauris up after you!"

Higher. It wasn't enough to cling suspended like this. Edmund wanted to know he could do more. Gingerly, he slid his fingers out of the hold.

_"Edmund stop!"_

Oreius's use of his first name with no royal title gave Edmund pause. The General sounded almost panicked, in fact. Curious to see what the solemn Centaur would look like with anxiety painting his face, Edmund craned his head back and looked down.

Vertigo clamped down on him. In an instant it grabbed his wrists, mocking him as it yanked him free of the wall and flung him to the ground. But although Edmund yelled in surprise at the abruptness of it all, he did not fight it, did not deny the ground now galloping toward him like a dark army. He had known it was coming. So predictable. It made him laugh, almost.

He had known he would go down.

_To Be Continued_

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**Fun Fact #3: **_Illyngophobia _is defined as the fear of experiencing vertigo or dizziness when looking down. This is different from the fear of heights known as _altophobia, _but the two are not mutually exclusive.

First off, thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! I've been having fun with this fic, so it's nice to see that others enjoy reading it.

Second, thanks for being patient with the rate of updates! This particular chapter refused to be written for the longest time. A four day bout of on-again off-again vertigo this week (plus an absolutely dead couple of hours at work on Friday) provided the impetus and inspiration to finally get it done. Obviously, this is backstory and not part of the current action of Edmund at the Heights, but it _is _important to the story. We'll be joining the Gryphons again in the next chapter... coming soon!

Okay, enough babble from me! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think *smiles*


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